A Mix of Juma Juice and Caffa
by Dranzen
Summary: Atton watches the Exile sleep after an interesting conversation. AttonExile OneShot


_Notes:_ Fluffy. Very fluffy. There isn't really a point to this one-shot, other than fluffiness.

Oooooooooooh! –squee- I love fluff!

This takes place just after the Ebon Hawk leaves the Polar Academy on Telos. Moo.

_Summary: _Atton watches the Exile sleep after an interesting conversation.

_Disclaimer: _This fic is mine. I, unfortunately, am not making any money off of it. Unless I get Kairi to pay me… heh heh. Oh yeah. I don't own Knights of the Old Republic.

**A Mix of Juma Juice and Caffa**

"Stop distracting her."

She was laughing at him, he could hear it. She was snickering away in her Dormitory, laughing at what a _fool_ he was. Murderer, Fool, Imbecile…the insults never stopped. Not that he cared or anything, but it still got annoying. _Real _annoying.

"Cryptic old witch…" Atton muttered under his breathe, plopping down heavily into the Pilot's chair. The Ebon Hawk was quiet, as it was late at night. The only two people up, or had been up, were Kreia and Atton. Although Kreia had probably fallen asleep by the time Atton reached the cockpit. Perhaps their argument had worn her out.

He leaned back in the chair, staring out the window in front of him. There wasn't anything really to look at; just the blue of hyperspace. It had begun to sicken him. They seriously needed a change of scenery.

Atton scowled. It was Kreia's fault he was still on the dumb ship. If she hadn't decided to _rudely _invade his mind then he'd probably be at Nar Shadaa by now. But no…she had him wrapped on her old, prune-like digit. Thus, he was on his way to Dantooine.

When they got there, they'd probably all be stuck in another Force Cage. Well, not all together…

Atton picked up his Pazaak Deck from where he had left it on the control panel of the Ebon Hawk. He began fiddling with it absent mindedly. He fingers ran over the worn edges of the cards, and he counted them repeatedly.

Just to make sure.

A soft pitter patter on the steel floor of the ship snapped him out of his reverie and he leaned over the side of the chair. He let out a cry as a steaming mug was shoved in his face and shot out of the chair, banging his side into the control panel painfully.

Ara giggled as Atton began cursing colorfully, scowling. She then yawned widely, still holding the steaming mug.

"What are you doing up?" grumbled Atton, picking up what remained of his dignity and sitting down in the pilot's seat. Ara sat in the co-pilot seat next to him, setting the mug of black liquid on the control panel, next to several of Atton's scattered cards.

"Caffa." She stated tiredly, nodding to it. The Exile had another mug of a steaming liquid and a blanket draped over her arm. She set the other mug on the control panel in front of her seat.

"You don't look like you've been drinking Caffa." Atton pointed out, noting her sleeping clothes and bare feet. She smiled at him, and then brought her knees up to her chest, pulling the blanket over herself.

"No, silly," she said softly, blinking the tiredness out of her eyes. "The Caffa's for you. I have my own concoction." She gestured to her own mug.

"Then that doesn't explain what you're doing up," Atton mumbled, frowning at her. "Kreia's going to be mad."

Ara shrugged, eyes twinkling in their usual mischievous manner at him. Atton always marveled at how a thirty-year-old woman could remind him so much of a child. She just had that…innocent look about her. Even more so now as she held the mug to her cheek, eyes shutting as she enjoyed its warmth.

He watched her for a moment, as she took a sip of her drink. He mumbled a small thanks, and then picked up his own mug.

There was silence between them, and Atton began to grow uncomfortable with it. If Kreia wandered in right then, she'd once again accuse him of distracting the Exile. Not that he cared what the old witch said or anything, he just didn't want her in his head again.

"I couldn't sleep." Ara piped up, smiling at Atton. "So, I figured I'd come and bother you."

"I'm flattered," Atton replied sarcastically, shaking his head. "And don't tell me you're drinking Caffa either."

"I'm not," Ara replied, grinning at him. "I told you. It's my own concoction. It'll _definitely _put me to sleep."

The Scoundrel raised an eyebrow at him. "In the cockpit?"

"Yes, in the cockpit." She adjusted her position slightly, and then stared out the window.

Atton shook his head again, and turned to look outside as well. "Pretty boring isn't it?"

"No, not really," Ara replied, taking another sip of her drink. "It's pretty, in its own way."

Atton looked at her, and then back out at the blue of hyperspace. Instead of replying, he took a drink of his Caffa. Once again, silence fell over them. Ara appeared the be enjoying herself, and her drink, every time Atton took a peek at her. She looked just as sleepy as she had when she entered the cockpit, possibly even more so, but seemed intent on staying in the cockpit.

Atton set his mug down, deciding to ignore her for the time being as she was seemingly doing to him. He began turning the seat in circles, bending to pick up his scattered Pazaak cards. He had dropped/thrown them when Ara had stuffed the hot mug of Caffa right under his nose.

"Why'd you drop them?" Ara asked innocently. Atton glanced up at her, scowling as she smiled back at him.

"Because you shocked me."

"Like a manly mynock?"

"Would you get off of that?"

Ara giggled, watching as Atton picked up the remaining of his cards and then gathered them all into a somewhat orderly deck. He counted them, and then placed the deck back on the control panel.

Ara giggled again. "Why do you count your cards?"

"To make sure they're all there." Replied Atton, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Love your deck, don't you?"

He shrugged, picking up his mug of Caffa again. The Scoundrel eyed her suspiciously as she took another drink of her 'concoction.' She was getting more, and more…giggly. Something he had seen happen to little girls when they had too many candies, or grown women when they were tipsy.

"You aren't drinking Juma Juice, are you?" Atton asked, frowning.

Ara shrugged. "There's a little bit of Juma in here, and Caffa, and Dantooine Milk…and a tad bit of sugar, just to make it sweet." She said cheerfully, taking another drink.

"That sounds disgusting," Atton stated, once again shaking his head. "And where did you get the Juma anyways?"

"It's quite delicious, Atton dearest," Ara replied in a sing song voice. "And my Juma stash is for me, not my silly pilot." She giggled again, downing the rest of her drink.

"Atton _dearest?_" repeated Atton as she set down on her mug again. "_Your _silly pilot?" Ara started giggling again, and he groaned.

"Is this what happens when you have just a _little _bit to drink?" he grumbled. The Exile shook her head.

"No. The Juma just gives it flavor. It's the sugar that makes me giggly." She replied, just as she went into another fit of giggles.

"I'll keep that in mind." Atton noted, more to himself than her.

"Am I bothering you?" Ara asked a few minutes later. The giggling had stopped, replaced by yawns and tired mumblings. Atton had begun fiddling with the Ebon Hawk controls, just to keep himself busy.

There was a familiar buzzing sound outside the cockpit as T3-M4 passed them, heading out into the Main Hold.

Atton and Ara stared at each other for a moment, and then he shrugged. "Nah…not really."

Ara grinned widely at this, though it wasn't as vibrant thanks to her sleepy expression. "Okay…I'm glad."

Atton stared at her again, watching as the Exile covered her mouth as she yawned. "Why are you in here anyways? I mean, besides that you can't sleep."

Ara blinked at him and then shut her eyes, leaning back in her seat again. He would've thought she had gone to sleep, but she was frowning in a thoughtful manner. She opened her eyes half way again, and then yawned.

"Well, I guess I could sleep," she mumbled, blinking tiredly at him. "I just didn't want to. I wanted to come and talk to you instead," she smiled, and then rubbed her dark eyes with one hand. "Ugh…I thought the Caffa would keep me awake…"

The Exile's eyes shut completely once again, and her breathing steadied. Atton watched her for a few minutes more, before setting his mug down again. He stood up and prodded her gently.

"Ara?"

She mumbled something and shook her head in her sleep. Atton smiled. He reached for the blanket that gathered around her knees and pulled it up to her shoulders, so that it covered her more. He hesitated, frowning.

T3 buzzed through the main hold again, and he listened intently for the astromech droid's movement to fade into silence. Once the only sound was the gentle hum of the Ebon Hawk's engine, Atton looked back at Ara.

The Exile mumbled some gibberish in her sleep and shifted slightly, and then was still. Atton knelt next to her, yet again marveling at the immaturity of his Jedi companion. God, when she was hyper, she was worse than he!

After a little bit of listening to her breathe, Atton stood up and adjusted her blanket again. He had half a mind to carry her to one of the dormitories, preferably the one lacking Kreia's presence, and set her down in one of the beds. However, the other half of his mind figured that it was just fine that she slept right next to him.

Atton stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling more awake than he had over half an hour ago thanks to the Caffa Ara had brought him. He watched her sleep for a little bit while longer and then picked up her empty mug. He turned around and grabbed his own mug, before looking back at her.

She was smiling slightly in her sleep. Her lips moved wordlessly as she nuzzled into the older fabric of the co-pilot's seat. Once again, the Scoundrel stiffened. It was then he noticed that her hair had been let down completely, not pulled to the side with her silver barrettes.

Ara mumbled something that sounded somewhat like 'cantina rat,' and Atton pushed down the urge to laugh. Instead, he smiled and shook his head.

"Are you sure you're not awake?" he asked softly, bending down to look at Ara's face curiously. She didn't move, just continued to breathe steadily.

And then he kissed her.

On the cheek, yes, but it was still a kiss. He just bent over and pecked the side of her face. She mumbled something in her sleep, and her smile grew.

Atton stepped away from her, frowning. He shook his head again, fighting back the rosy color that had begun to cover his cheeks. He cursed under his breathe, and then left the cockpit.

"_Idiot. Imbecile. _Absolute _moron. _You stupid, Pazaak-playing _fool_."

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

Ara pouted at the white circles dotting the black of the galaxy. She spun around the co-pilot's seat a few times, earning a disapproving look from Kreia – which she ignored. She was still a little bit hyper from her drink the night before – or rather, much earlier that morning.

Kreia stood by the Galaxy Map, watching Atton answer a simple 'no,' every time the inpatient asked if they were there yet. He seemed to be ignoring her, in a manner of speaking, or he had just not had his Caffa for the morning. Either way, he didn't start up one of his and Ara's usual conversations, usually about where to go, why they were going where they were going, or Pazaak.

The last topic Kreia hated the most, as she disapproved of the card game.

Perhaps the Fool had taken her advice. The hopeful thought crossed through her mind. Of course he had; he had to, if he didn't want the Exile to know of his…questionable past. He had become a distraction for Ara, and it needed to be stopped.

Satisfied with the outcome of last night's conversation, the Consular turned on her heel and started back to her Dormitory.

Once Kreia's footsteps died away, Atton let out a sight of relief, slouching forwards slightly. Ara blinked, noting this.

"Does Kreia scare you?" she asked, smirking. She didn't use the girly tone she had the night before. Rather, she spoke normally, in the feminine voice Atton had become able to distinguish through crowds of shouting people.

"No," Atton retorted, shooting a sideways glare at her. "Why? Does it look like it?"

Ara shook her head, chuckling slightly. She spun the chair again, so that its back and her front was facing the window. "Oh! There it is!" She pointed ahead at a far away green orb. "Dantooine!"

"Uh-huh." Atton replied absent-mindedly.

This time Ara glanced at him. He didn't look at her. Instead, the Scoundrel continued to stare ahead at the planet the ship was approaching.

"Atton-?"

"Stop distracting me."

Ara blinked at him. "Oh. I see. I distract you, Atton darling." She laughed a little bit, shaking her head.

"Atton _what_?"

Ara didn't answer, instead she climbed out of the chair. She pointed her nose in the air, placed both hands on her hips, and then began walking away. "If I'm such a distraction, I'm just going to leave!" She walked like that for a little bit more, and then burst out laughing.

Atton peered around the back of his chair after her, frowning. He turned back to the front, preparing the landing sequences.

"You have no idea." He mumbled.

* * *

_Notes: _Like I said, pointless and a little bit messed up. About Ara's drink…please, do not ask.

Ah…that only took me an hour and a half. Must be a record. XP

Review, thank you! D

Zen-chan


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